


tumblr fics collection

by funkypunkskeleton



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:20:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funkypunkskeleton/pseuds/funkypunkskeleton
Summary: 13x06 ficlet.rebloggable version.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 13x06 ficlet. [rebloggable version](https://write-nerdy-to-me.tumblr.com/post/167612374282/he-doesnt-say-fuck-ive-missed-you-despite-it).

He doesn’t say, _Fuck, I’ve missed you_ ,despite it being the first thought that comes to him when Cas impossibly lowers his voice and drawls, _“I’m your Huckleberry.”_ He doesn’t grin or laugh like he wants to, doesn’t give in to the flutters in his gut, even though Cas is wearing a cowboy hat and just quoted a line from one of Dean’s favorite movies. Instead, he says, “Yeah, exactly,” the words coming out harder than he intended. Dean shakes his head – mostly at himself – and turns away. He’s suddenly filled to the brim with feelings he doesn’t dare name, the twist in his chest like a knife. Dean knows this is all too good to be true, having Cas back, yet he can’t find it in him to care – the part of him that had completely shut down, hollowed out, cracked, is now flushed warm and sun bright. He doesn’t want to take a deeper look at any of this, he can’t, not right now. He’s going to take it as is, because this is his win, and he’s going to hang on to it.

He takes one more look, then the words slip out before he can stop them – not that he really considered stopping them. They’re all he can say at the moment, anyway, and they barely scrape the surface of what he’s feeling. “It’s good to have you back, Cas.” His name comes out on a breath, like just saying it lifts a weight, and Dean’s powerless to masking the wonder that soaks his voice, as well as the small, barely-there smile that curves at the corner of his mouth. _I missed you._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hunter husbands. [rebloggable version](https://write-nerdy-to-me.tumblr.com/post/175653465922/a-quick-destiel-drabble-woot-dean-arrives-at).

Dean arrives at the police station five minutes before Cas, and he can’t hold back the urge to roll his eyes when he spots Cas’s car slipping into the parking space across the street. It’s a snot-green monstrosity that was meant to be used only the once several hunts ago as a getaway car and later dumped. Now the damned thing has its own space in the garage. Sam hadn’t taken Dean’s complaints about the car seriously, about all the work he was going to have to put into it and the modifications to make it less lame because “If it’s going to be cruising next to Baby, it can’t look like _that_.” Instead, the jerk had just given Dean the eyebrows and told him, “You’re so whipped,” for which Dean still hasn’t forgiven him.

Cas looks both ways before crossing, like the responsible dork he is, but he’s seemingly oblivious to his unkempt appearance. Which wouldn’t be an issue, really, if it wasn’t for the fact that they have shit to do, such as speak with cops and interview witnesses like the FBI agents they aren’t, and they can’t do that convincingly if Cas looks like he rolled out of bed this morning in yesterday’s clothes.

Dean grips Cas by the sleeve when he’s close enough, stops him from entering the station. “Dude.”

“I’m not late,” Cas says immediately. “You’re just here early.”

“No, not that,” Dean says. “Your clothes.”

“What about them?” Cas looks down at himself then at Dean, not understanding what’s wrong, head tilted and eyes squinty in that way Dean pretends to not adore. 

In the back of his mind, he hears brother’s voice stage-whisper, _Whipped_.

“Just – c’mere, I’ll do it. Can’t take you anywhere, man,” he mutters. He’s only half-annoyed about it since he’s kind of, mostly, the cause of Cas’s current state of dress (they had a free hour, and Dean’s angel boyfriend is hot, sue him), and he kind of, really, likes doing this part. It’s like he can’t ever get enough now, touching Cas simply because he _can_ – making up for lost time between them, maybe. He adjusts what’s out of place, tugging on the lapels and straightening them out, tries to tame Cas’s wayward hair, and Cas lets him do it (because he likes this part, too, knows that Dean likes it, and the real reason why he hadn’t bothered fixing his clothes himself).

Dean’s hands linger on Cas’s tie, fiddling with it. A furious blush starts to spread across his cheeks to his ears when he says, “You know I love you, right?”

“Yeah,” Cas says and reaches up to touch Dean’s reddened face, his smile growing crooked and fond as the blush turns darker, a softness to his eyes that makes Dean’s stomach do summersaults. “I know.” 

Dean clears his throat, all manliness bravado for about two seconds, ruining the illusion by looking at Cas shyly from under his eyelashes. “Good.” With a firm grip on Cas’s tie, he tugs him in for a kiss that leaves them both breathless.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> first kiss. [rebloggable version](https://write-nerdy-to-me.tumblr.com/post/171244299077/it-happens-in-the-middle-of-the-kitchen-while).

It happens in the middle of the kitchen, while Dean’s preparing a pot pie for dinner. He makes a joke – tasteful, and fucking clever, in his humble opinion, if someone were to ask – and by now, he knows he’ll only get disdainful looks, but he lets himself hope for a little indulgence from the guys. Dean turns to gauge their reactions from over his shoulder, getting that very look from Sam, who’s sprawled at the table, covering the surface with books and data. Then Dean looks at Cas and wiggles his eyebrows a bit, grinning and hoping for some other response, but not expecting, because it seems that no one in the bunker shares his wit. So he’s wholly unprepared for what follows.

Cas tosses his head back and _laughs_.

Dean’s too stunned to do more than stare.

Cas’s eyes and nose wrinkle, his grin wide and gummy – it’s the first time Dean has ever witnessed Cas like this, and god, he can’t take his eyes off him. Feels his heart stutter or stop or both; it’s warm and fluttery, and only increases in intensity. Cas has such a stupid laugh, and Dean loves everything about it.

When Cas eases into lingering chuckles, he gives Dean a smile that’s so filled with warmth and _happiness_. He just – he looks so good, leaning back against one of the counters, devastatingly handsome as always in loose-fitting jeans, a red threadbare tee, and bare feet. It shouldn’t be a surprise that, just so overcome with _love_ and _adoration_ for this man, this is the moment he finally makes his move. Dean stops what he’s doing, walks over to Cas, and grabs him by the face, forgetting that his hands are covered in flour and sticky dough. Then he kisses him right on the mouth, right there in the middle of the kitchen while Dean was making dinner. (Dean also forgot about Sam still being there, didn’t even bother to hesitate before making a move. He just went for it, because the love of his life just laughed at his joke and Dean loves him all the more and needed to kiss him.)

Cas stands still for only a brief second before he absolutely melts, making a soft noise and winding his fingers through Dean’s hair. Both of them are too caught up in each other to hear Sam’s indignant protest of _Guys, we eat in here_ , but they do manage to control themselves – just barely, though.

As Dean pulls back from the kiss, Cas blinks a couple times, slightly dazed and like he’s in disbelief that happened. Then his eyes clear, and he grins wide again, all gummy and scrunchy. He lets out another laugh, this one softer and delighted, and he pulls Dean back in for more kisses.

Dinner is late, and this time Sam is giving his disdainful look to both Dean and Cas, who are rumpled and red-mouthed from a very thorough makeout session. They’re all happy, though, and the pot pie is delicious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fallen angel. [rebloggable version](https://write-nerdy-to-me.tumblr.com/post/187884120657/one-touch-is-all-it-took-it-started-in-hell).

One touch is all it took.

It started in hell, when Castiel saved Dean Winchester. From that moment on, something about this human lured Castiel in and kept him.

Hester had it right all along: When he first laid a hand on Dean, he was lost. Lost to the angels, lost to heaven, to what he was.

But he wasn’t lost to Dean. With one touch, this human – who was both of utmost importance and insignificance – could ground Castiel in ways he’d never known. And it was never much in the ways of physical contact – a touch to his shoulder, his arm, barely lasting for longer than it took to catch his attention – but it was enough.

One touch, and Castiel fell in every way imaginable.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15x18 coda. [rebloggable version](https://write-nerdy-to-me.tumblr.com/post/633998600127545344/destiel-15x18-coda-the-shadow-always-collects).

Dean didn’t bother to make it to his bed. He sits on the floor, tucked away in the shadows, the wall behind him the only reason he’s upright at all. A myriad of empty whiskey bottles litter the space around him, one that’s a measly ¼ full held in his limp fingers. The only light source comes from his bedside lamp, and the glow just barely reaches his feet. _Failure._ Though his face is dry, his splotchy cheeks and red-rimmed eyes betray him, and the hollow, devastated expression speaks more than anything he could try to say. There is nothing left in him to give, he… is absence. _Too late._ Across the room, tossed to the floor in drunken ferocity and disgust, his jacket lies in a crumpled heap. The sanguine stain on the shoulder taunts him like a cruel joke. _Too late. Failure. Nothing left_. A lulling melody bleeds through the room from his cassette player, a woman’s voice crooning into the air: 

_Say “night-ie night” and kiss me  
Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me  
While I’m alone and blue as can be  
Dream a little dream of me_

_Stars fading, but I linger on, dear  
Still craving your kiss  
I’m longing to linger ’til dawn, dear  
Just saying this…_

“Me, too, C—” Dean shuts his eyes then covers his face with his unoccupied hand. He sucks in an unsteady breath and it sounds like a sob. “I—Me, too.”

_Too late. Always too late._


End file.
